Brotherhood
by Mystics Apprentice
Summary: What if Seto Kaiba had lost to Gozaburo at his game of chess? What would have happened to the Kaiba brothers? A reimagining of the lives of Seto and Mokuba where they were not adopted, but rather have had to fend for themselves in a harsh and sometimes cruel world, with all odds attempting to keep them apart.
1. Separation Anxiety

**Author's Note: I have always wanted to write a Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfic, and after revisiting the series I've been inspired to do so. Something that has bothered me about the series, or at least the English 4Kids version, is the lack of realism to the story and characters. In this I'm going to be grounding a much greater sense of reality, as dark and hard as that may be. Now, it has been a great long while since I have written any work of fiction, so this will doubtlessly be rusty, but I hope it is enjoyable all the same. I would heavily welcome any feedback in the form of review.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of its characters. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Separation Anxiety**

"Okay, Seto. You have given us twelve great reasons why we shouldn't allow you to adopt Mokuba. Can you give us a good reason to do so?"

The faces behind the desk were cold, sneering and condescending, without even a lick of sympathy despite the predicament of the two brothers. Seto Amakusa balled his hands into fists, placing one gently on the desk despite his desire to slam it. For six long years he and his brother Mokuba had lived within the confines of the orphanage walls, waiting until the day that they could both escape together. Over the course of their stay they had encountered several prospective homes, though never were they granted to both boys. It was either they wished to adopt Seto for his smarts, or Mokuba for his youth, but never were the two desired together.

So far they had managed to abstain from separation, but no longer, it seemed. Seto had reached his eighteenth birthday, and, while the legal age of adulthood was twenty in Japan, the eldest that the orphanage would shelter was eighteen, and thus he had to leave. The brunet sat there before the headmasters, brilliant mind spinning with no solutions. He'd already presented his case, and they disregarded every bit of it. They were sending him out that door-without Mokuba, from the looks of it.

"Show some compassion," Seto sneered, glowering up at the headmasters before him. "I'm all the family that Mokuba has left. You can't just rip us apart! I promised-"

"Well, I suppose that just goes to show that you shouldn't make promises that you can't keep," responded a tall redhead sitting adjacent to Seto, adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We are not bound by law to continue to house you here, Seto, nor are we bound by desire. You have been nothing but a nuisance since you arrived here, setting a bad example for others, your brother included. He will be in good hands here. Should he not find a good home over the next four years, he too will be sent out into the world and there you can reunite."

Seto lowered his head, gaze penetrating the desk in front of him. "Please," he said at last, a note of desperation taking house in his voice. "Let him come with me. I promise to be a sufficient guardian, and you are welcome to keep tabs on me as often or as much as you want."

"With all due respect, Seto, you do not have the resources to be a 'sufficient guardian,'" stated the elder headmaster before him. "You have no wealth to your name apart from the five-thousand yen which we've given to you as a parting gift, and no leads on a steady income save for a job interview at a local burger joint that _we_ set up for you."

Sadly it was the truth; Seto had nothing to offer Mokuba presently, but all of that was going to change. He was intending to make sure of it. That didn't change the fact that presently he had nothing working in his favor to adopt Mokuba. They required proof of residency, income, background checks, and perhaps some references to certify that he would be worthy of caring for a child. The world felt like it was crashing down hard and fast, and for perhaps the third time in his life, Seto felt helpless.

"Do not make me repeat this again," interrupted the lead headmaster from Seto's thoughts. "Pack your things. A taxi is coming this afternoon to pick you up to take you to your temporary place of residence."

"And if I decline?"

A smile appeared on the headmaster's face, though no sense of warmth or amusement accompanied it. "Then you will leave without your things in a police escort."

 _That would look really good on a background check._

Seto furiously spun on heel and exited the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. He nearly trampled his little brother Mokuba, who had been standing at the door at the time. The raven-haired youth gasped, and for a moment their blue eyes locked before Seto broke his away.

"Seto . . . ."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But what happened in there?"

Seto shrugged, shooting his brother a quizzical glance. "You heard it; there's no need for me to repeat it."

The clock tower outside the square began to chime, indicating that it was twelve o'clock. Within hours a taxi would come to retrieve Seto, and he would be expected to leave. The time between the brothers was short; every moment of silence seemed wasted. Mokuba looked wounded, wide eyes darting outside toward the square and then back at his brother. "What does this mean for us, Seto?"

"It means . . . ." Seto drew in a breath, dropping to his knees before his brother as he grasped the boy's shoulders. "That we need to come up with another plan. We'll find one-I promise."

A frown furrowed Mokuba's brow as he gazed down at his older brother. So sincere and sure of himself, though Mokuba knew the truth: the situation was out of Seto's control, and true to the headmaster's word the two would be in very different places in the country by this time tomorrow. Mokuba shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't want to be alone, Seto."

"You won't be." The look that Mokuba threw him felt like knives piercing his heart, causing him to rephrase his statement. "I will always be with you, Mokuba, even if not physically. We may be apart for a short while, but I can promise you that it won't stay that way. I'll be back, and I _will_ bring you with me, no matter how many hoops they make me leap through."

Of this he could promise with all certainty, assured that he would in fact keep his word. Mokuba nodded stiffly, though he appeared less confident than his elder brother. Seto tried to offer Mokuba a smile, yet they probably both knew that his positivity was merely a facade at this point. He had to be strong for Mokuba, otherwise who would?

"Now come on," Seto urged, rising to his feet and giving Mokuba's shoulder one final pat before striding away. "We have a chess game to play."


	2. The Interview

**Author's note** : many thanks for the follows, as well as the review. It was a pleasant surprise to see so many people interested in the progression of this story. I felt that this chapter may not be as interesting as those to come, but integral for the progression of the plot.

Also, I was hoping to ask the opinion of my dear readers as to whether I should use the cast's English or Japanese names. I was leaning toward using their Japanese names to make the Japanese setting of the story more legit, though I value your opinions on what you all would prefer.

As always, I very much welcome reviews and constructive criticism.

* * *

 **Chapter Two: The Interview**

The sterile walls of Seto's new room glared at him as he sat at a wooden desk. The furnishing had seen better days, with several chips along the edges and the wood finishing all but worn. The room in its entirety matched the condition of the desk. Not that Seto was very much surprised; it didn't seem like the orphanage to wish to waste more than they absolutely had to on him.

He had only been at his new room and board for the past three hours, and already he hated it. The taxi had arrived at the orphanage for him at one o'clock on the dot, and after choice words and parting threats to the staff, Seto relented and was whisked off to the other side of Japan. It was difficult for him to leave Mokuba, and even harder when Mokuba broke into tears.

"I told you that I won't be gone long, Mokuba," Seto had told him, to which his younger brother tackled him into a bear hug. "I'll come back and get you out of this place."

His words hadn't stopped the youth's tears from flowing, drenching the front of Seto's tan-colored sweater. Seto let out a sigh, returning the embrace and running a hand through Mokuba's dark silky locks.

"What if I'm adopted before then by somebody else?" Mokuba insisted.

"You won't be," Seto reassured. "And if someone is interested, just shoot them down like you've always done. It's worked so far."

"But what if it doesn't this time? Now that you're gone I can't use you as an excuse." The boy dropped his chin, his gaze meeting the graveled driveway. "And what about those creeps? They'll never stop bullying me with you out of the way."

Calmly Seto lifted Mokuba's chin so that they locked eyes. "Listen to me," he said. "You're not the same kid that walked into this orphanage six years ago. You're older and wiser now, and I know that you can stand up to them now. I need you to be strong for me until I can come back for you, Mokuba. Can you do that for me?"

The boy sniffed back tears and nodded solemnly. "You can count on me." And then, in a weaker voice added, "I'll miss you, Big Brother."

"And I you, but we'll be reunited again soon enough. You have my word."

The taxi driver slammed the trunk shut, rolling his eyes as he glanced over at the two boys. "Are you about finished yet? I wasn't paid for this."

"You can wait five seconds," Seto snapped impatiently, before turning back to the dark-haired boy, his gaze softened. "Stay strong, kid."

For a moment Seto thought that he would have to pry his brother off, but after another squeeze Mokuba released him of his own volition, lips parted slightly. From Mokuba's expression one would've thought that he'd been kicked hard in the gut. The tall brunet climbed into the taxi without stealing a backward glance, knowing that another look at his little brother would only tear at his heartstrings further.

That was about eight hours prior. Now he sat in this decrepit room, at a miserable desk on a flimsy fold-up chair, staring at a wall and thinking about life and how much he hated it. Truth be told, he wasn't any closer to getting Mokuba back than he was to Scotland, with little funds to put to his name and only a month's worth of rent and provisions covered by the orphanage before he was on his own entirely. He reached for a pen and tapped the corner of a piece of paper in front of him, chiefly his resume.

There was always, of course, the possibility of sneaking Mokuba out, but that was a fool's errand. It would not get him very far beyond the police station, and likely destroy any hopes of adopting his little brother. There was no way that he could pull off his abduction, even if he were able to successfully get him out of the orphanage. No, he would have to secure Mokuba's adoption by the orphanage's rules, though that would require time and quite the amount of effort. What Seto needed was fine resources, something that would take time to acquire, but not wholly out of his reach. No, he had an idea, albeit a rough one, and it would be a huge gamble. But, then again, Seto enjoyed a good gamble-that was part of what life was.

Before he could begin his business proposition to the one man who could sort him out of this mess, there was a job interview to attend. It was measly, in Seto's opinion, yet necessary if he wanted to hold his own until he could work his way up the ladder. And right now, any job was a job, and he would need money for what he desired to do.

The burger joint was a mere few blocks down the road; Seto left his rack-a-shack apartment well in advance, partially to make a good impression on his prospective employer, but mostly for the fresh air. It was well into the night, and most places in Domino City had already closed. Seto witnessed a game shop at the corner flick off its "open" sign, along with a jeweler lock up her store. Domino was rather expansive in contrast to Fuyuki, where he had been raised, though he rather liked it. There were more people and many more buildings; a considerably larger city in comparison.

When Seto arrived the door to the burger joint was locked. It was after hours, and inside Seto could see a young woman mopping. She didn't seem to hear him try the door, nor did she look up, so he rapped at the glass with his knuckles. This did get her attention, wide cerulean eyes rising to meet his, though she merely shook her head and continued mopping. This aggravated him massively.

"I have a job interview!" he shouted through the glass, which may or may not have made it to her ears. She proceeded to ignore him, whereas he proceeded to knock, eventually causing her to slam her mop down into her bucket, sloshing soapy liquid all over the floor. The brunette girl marched over to the glass door and shoved it open, uncaring on whether she hit Seto or not.

"We're closed, Mister," she said harshly. She was about to slam the door shut again when Seto interceded, throwing an arm out to block the closure of the door.

"I've noticed," was his cold reply. "I have a job interview at nine o'clock with someone named Izumi."

Seto took a moment to study the young woman. She was of average height and build, with shoulder-length brown hair, its ends frayed and in need of a proper trimming. Her eyes were wide and bright, with a sense of cheer despite her offhandedness toward him. Her name badge read "Anzu."

"Oh, that would be my manager," Anzu said, standing up straight and biting her lip. "I'm sorry; I thought that you were a customer."

"I presumed as much."

"Izumi never told me that she was interviewing anyone"-now Anzu held the door open for him, to which he entered without so much as a glance her way-"what position are you interested in?"

Seto finally brought his cold gaze to meet hers before sneering: "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry about the door, all right? We get all sorts of weirdos after hours and I thought you were one of them."

Admittedly Anzu did seem remorseful, though Seto was already in a foul mood. He didn't want to be applying for this position, much less work alongside _her,_ and he was still very bitter about being separated from Mokuba.

"I'll go get Izumi."

Seto merely nodded as Anzu slipped away, knocking the mop out of the bucket as she went. It cascaded to the ground, taking a great amount of soap water to pool out with it. The brunet was watching the water run down the tile cracks when Anzu returned with another woman at her side: dark haired, tall, and oddly muscular. She seemed more befitted to instruct at a gym rather than sell burgers.

"You must be the orphan boy," she said, a smile planted on her face.

Apparently Seto didn't appreciate being called "orphan boy," as his expression remained stony as he coldly responded with, "And you must be the manager."

Slowly Izumi's smile faded, wringing her hands as though thinking that she should offer her hand to shake his but thought better on it. There was a gruffness to her demeanor, which curiously did not go with her other characteristics, such as her elegant face and slender long neck.

"I don't intend to make this a formal interview. I just have a few questions for you."

"Of course." Seto began to rummage through the folder that he'd stowed under his arm, until he found a crisp, unfolded sheet of paper. He extended it toward her, expression unreadable. "I brought along a copy of my resume, thinking that you might be in need of it."

"Sure, I'll take a quick glance over it," Izumi responded, raising a brow as her eyes met the clear dark lines on the stark-white parchment. Seto watched her black eyes dart back and forth, the crease between her brows deepening as she progressed further in. "So you're a software engineer?"

Seto shrugged. "In my free time. I was only an intern at KaibaCorp over one summer."

"But you've indicated that you work on your own projects, such as a holographic Duel Monsters system and a virtual reality world?"

"That's right."

Izumi smiled, lifting her eyes from the resume to meet Seto's. "You're no people person, are you?"

In response Seto merely frowned and shrugged, to which the manager cackled at. "That only confirms it"-she rubbed at her eye with her sleeve-"Do you have any experience in customer service?"

"Not really," was Seto's response.

"Hmm . . . . That's going to make it real hard for you to market your software."

Seto gave a start at this. "What?"

"Come now, don't tell me that you're going to stay here flipping burgers for any length of time. Not with those smarts of yours. I get the feeling that this is only the bridge for you-an intermediary place before you go big with some other avenue in your life."

The young man's expression remained unchanged, voicing nothing to confirm her assumptions. Seto was impressed by her accurate deduction, though felt it inappropriate to add anything to it. This was a job interview, after all, and discussing your dream job in relation to the job that you were applying to was typically not in the best interest of the applicant, chiefly when said job was entirely unrelated.

The smack of plastic against tile echoed through the eatery, causing both Izumi and Seto to glance over. Anzu had just emptied her bucket of soapy water and had slammed it to the ground with her mop, before shoving open the bi-swing door that led to the back.

"Well now," Izumi started, arresting Seto's attention once more. "Usually I like to give the sociable kids at the high school these jobs, but you're different. I like that."

She liked his differences? That was unusual. Seto offered her a smile and nodded. "I will try to do you no wrong."

"Even though you have completely zero people skills and lack the common courtesy to another individual"-she crossed her arms over her chest, biceps bulging under her sleeves-"something tells me that a person like you around here would benefit this place. You're hired."

As much as he wanted to say something witty in response, he gulped down his pride as instead simply replied with: "Thank you. When do I start?"

"Tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock. You will be shadowing Anzu for the first day and helping her run food and bus tables."

 _Wonder how much Anzu's going to enjoy that,_ Seto thought to himself bemusedly, recalling the animosity that had already culminated between them.

"That sounds good. Thank you, Izumi."

A wide grin exposing practically all of her pearly white teeth crossed her face. "Please, just call me Boss."


	3. The Proposition

**Author's note:** First, thank you all so much for your reviews and follows. I'm so pleased to see that there are those interested in reading this story further. In response to my readers, as well as my own inclination, I have decided to use the character's Japanese names.

Also, how would everyone feel about a chapter dedicated to a round of Duel Monsters? The story's dominant focus is on the characters and their relationships, of course, but I thought it would be interesting to showcase at least a couple of games in the story.

As always, feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions.

* * *

 **Chapter Three: The Proposition**

Sunlight escaped between thick drapes of burgundy velvet, casting sunbeams along the checker-tiled floor. A tall man in a red suit sat drinking, alone, at the head of a long rectangular table. This was commonplace for him, whether it be high noon or a late night splurge, often accompanied by his favorite cheese variety of Gorgonzola. This time, however, he was laughing wholeheartedly to himself, accompanied with the occasional girlish giggle that would've sent chills down the spines of onlookers should there be any. Despite this erratic behavior, the man was not mad, or at least not enough to be drinking wine and laughing at nothing but the shadows dancing on the walls. In his hands rested one of his favorite comic books, featuring Funny Bunny getting himself into all sorts of mischief.

"Pardon me, Master Pegasus."

The man immediately stopped laughing, lifting his head to the newcomer. Silver sheets of hair fell into his tanned face, concealing his left eye from view as it often did. "Whatever is it, Croquet?"

A suited man in the doorway bowed lowly, sunlight glinting off his shades and teal locks. "I have a letter which I think may be of interest to you," said the man, approaching his master's side tentatively.

"Oh, goodie, could it be fan-mail, perhaps?"-the eccentric man clasped his hands together dreamily-"How I adore getting the ones with unicorns and scratch n' sniff stickers!"

Croquet said nothing, partially because he never knew what to say when his master became like this. Whether it be labelled drunkenness or positively madness he was not quite certain, though he assumed the latter, as he had these tendencies for as long as he'd known him.

He gingerly placed an opened envelope on the table, which Pegasus looked at dismally. It was plain and sticker-free, coming from the Japanese city of Domino, with his address evenly written across the front. Pegasus failed at retaining his disappointment.

"Read it to me."

At this his servant grunted, giving Pegasus a quizzical glance before picking up the parchment and clearing his throat.

"Dear Mister Pegasus," he began, in a tone most monotonous that immediately bored the childlike man. "I am writing to you as both a passionate duelist and a businessman, with a proposition that I am sure will profit your company. I have long been a fan of your card game and have programmed a method of bringing your Duel Monsters to life.

"After studying the mechanics of holograms and microchip software for card recognition, I have come up with the perfect product that every duelist will enjoy, filling the houses of tournaments and arcades, and perhaps even the homes of aspiring duelists. I present to you dueling arenas utilizing Solid Vision technology, where cards played on a clear glass surface can be recognized via microchips and project their liveness before the dueling party in life-like size. They breathe, snarl, and sometimes even smell. I assure you that this will bring traffic to your game like none you've ever seen.

"Please find attached some rough drafts and concepts of these arenas, though they are but shadows of the true device that I present to you. If you are interested please reach out and I would be happy to discuss my business proposition further."

All the while Pegasus was unmoved, eyes closed, though he appeared to be listening intently.

"Regards," Croquet continued, "Seto Amakusa."

"Who?"

"Seto Amakusa." Croquet tucked the letter neatly into the envelope, resting it upon the table for Pegasus to peer at. "I have run searches on the individual, and have found very little information about him. He seems to just be some Japanese orphan who recently made it out on his own into the world, working at a restaurant known as Flips and renting a small studio in Domino City. Nothing in his background seems to hold the promises that he offers, except for a summer internship last year with KaibaCorp."

"Hmm." Pegasus's exposed eye concentrated on the envelope. It should've been as good as junk mail, and yet something about its author and his promise intrigued him, most notably the mention of Solid Vision technology. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. "This may be rather interesting. Let's see what this Amakusa boy has to offer us."

~(*)~

"Two large chocolate shakes-"

"Actually, make that three, would you? My girlfriend's going to drink mine unless I get one for her."

Seto gritted his teeth as he scratched on the notepad in his hand, all the while pretending that he didn't desire to wring the guy's neck. There was no doubt about it: Seto truly was not a people person, and yet somehow he managed to find himself waiting tables. His first week on the job had come and gone with little event. Izumi was pleased with his performance after the first day, so much so that she had decided to let him wait tables on his own. This should've pleased him, yet he already had his sights set elsewhere. Waiting tables was well below him; it was technology and programming that he desired.

"Anything else?" Seto managed, keeping his tone flat all the while. His customer wrapped a dark lock of hair around his finger, humming as he tried to decide.

"I don't know. Honey, does anything else call out to you?"

His accomplice, a tall woman with dark locks to match, merely shook her head. That was enough of a dismissal for Seto, who managed to turn the corner so fast that he nearly bumped into Anzu. The serving tray, which had been precariously perched on her forearm, lost its balance and began to topple onto its side, until Seto threw out an arm to halt its progression.

"Would you _please_ watch where you're going?" Anzu hissed, tearing the tray from him with both hands clutching the sides.

Seto proffered her a humorless smile. "Only when you are able to keep a better hold on your food."

The two mixed about as famously as water and oil, having started on the wrong foot and only continuing down the path of enemies. Neither desired to exchange words unless they had to, and when they had it was never pleasant. Their hostility spread about them like a disease; other co-workers and even customers were able to sense the tension between the two. Seto didn't understand why Anzu continued to waste her time trying to converse with him, but when he had pointed this out to her she merely broke into tears, told him that he didn't understand, and dumped a dish of sour cream on one of their patrons by mistake. He decided not to broach the topic after that, finally concluding that she was too complicated.

The day started with the sun high in the sky, it ending just before dusk. Pink streaks greeted the Japanese sky as periwinkle clouds brushed by. The tall brunet was in the back hanging his apron at the end of his shift when he was greeted by Anzu, who leaned against the wall and let out a deep sigh. At first he planned on saying nothing, until he noticed that her hands were shaking. "Some ghost out there?"

To his surprise it was Anzu who snapped at him this time. "Just shut up and go home, Seto. Back to your studio where you plan on making your millions. Some of us have work to do around here."

Seto drew in a breath, cobalt eyes narrowing. He studied her for a moment before finally blurting: "You're not eighteen."

Anzu visibly gulped. "What?"

"You're not eighteen, are you? I saw you waiting on a table of high school sophomores today, and they seemed to know you personably. It's uncommon for seniors and sophomores to be so chummy and know one another so well, unless you aren't a senior like you've told everyone. You have to be at least eighteen to work here, do you not?"

What came next couldn't have been predicted by anyone. Lips pursed, Anzu brought a pallid hand to slap him clean across the face, the sickening smack of flesh meeting flesh ringing through the back. Thankfully the sizzling of burgers droned out just about everything from the cooks.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" she spat.

Seto merely shrugged and turned his head from her, seemingly unfazed that the woman had slapped him. "I guess it's all that I'm good at." Finally, he proceeded to add: "I don't intend to tell anyone."

"No? You're just going to hold it over my head every single day so that you can manipulate me?"

"I wasn't intending on it, but that _is_ a good idea."

Anzu threw her hands up in the air before walking past him, retrieving a pair of burgers that had been thrust out by the chef. She refused to meet his gaze after that, though Seto could clearly tell that she was still watching him from her peripheral vision.

"Anzu?"

The brunette paused, one hand on the bi-door. "What?"

"I was only joking."

At this Anzu sniffed back a sob. "Well, you're not funny."

For some unfathomable reason her words struck him harder than he would've cared to admit. Not that it bothered him to be cruel, or even to know that Anzu hated him. It took him the entire walk home to finally realize what it was about that look in her eye that haunted him so: it was disappointment.

Yes, the same look that had been in Gozaburo Kaiba's eyes when Seto lost at the game which he promised to win, held also by the headmaster the day in which he'd vowed to adopt Mokuba. Most of all, he recalled that dreaded look in his little brother's eyes the moment he walked out of his life, after breaking his word that they would never be apart. Such disappointment from others only solicited disappointment in himself, something that continued to grow each day that he wasted away in Domino City without being any closer to his goals.

Seto, normally proud, hung his head as he traced his steps back to his studio apartment, not even noticing the envelope tucked in the door until it cascaded to the ground in front of him. He blinked, trying to suppress optimism as he reached for it. It had been less than a week since he had written Pegasus Crawford; to think that the busy man had even lent a glance in his direction was more than wishful thinking. It was outright foolishness.

And yet, Seto's heart skipped a beat when he turned the envelope over, the return address field stamped with the Industrial Illusions insignia. The brunet was barely in the doorway of his room when he ripped the envelope open, prying out the sheet of paper whilst simultaneously unfolding it with the backside of his hand.

 _Dear Mr. Amakusa,_

 _I trust that this letter finds you in good health. Your correspondence has me most intrigued; I am very interested in hearing further details on this dueling system of yours that can bring my monsters to life._

 _Being a passionate duelist yourself, you can understand, I'm sure, that I am a very busy man that travels around the world on business in relation to my monsters. I am preparing for a trip to the Americas as we speak. However, I would like to invite you as a guest of honor to attend the Intercontinental Duel Monsters Championship held in New York City with me this Saturday, June 10. It is with great hope that you will be able to attend. From there we can further discuss what you have in mind for my company._

 _As time is of the essence and correspondence via mail is only so fast, I request that you reach Croquet at the toll free telephone number enclosed at the bottom of this letter._

 _Warmly,_

 _Pegasus J. Crawford_

 _President_

 _Industrial Illusions, Inc._

 _(800) 555-4299_

Several long moments passed as Seto held the letter, hand shaking as he fumbled for the light switch inside his apartment. All of this was too good to be true! He'd gained the interest of the business man, and, best yet, he'd been invited to a Duel Monster's championship with the creator himself!

The only problem was financing, as he painfully recollected the 10,000 yen sitting in the bottom of his desk. Regardless, he would have to make this work somehow. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, both the championship as well as meeting with Pegasus. Perhaps fare to the United States would be only one paycheck's worth, and Seto figured that, even if he did spend every last sum he owned, he would quickly recover the money tenfold should his software take off under the hands of Industrial Illusions.

"I'm coming for you, Mokuba," Seto thought to himself as he picked up the corded phone on the wall to dial the toll-free number. "It won't be long now before I bring you home."


	4. New York City

**DesertRose3000:** Thank you for your review. I am really glad that you are enjoying the story thus far. As for whether things will work out for the Kaiba brothers: they might, but not likely how one would expect. ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Four: New York City**

"You're really meeting with Pegasus Crawford?" Mokuba returned the billionaire's letter after having read it at least three times, eyes wide. "And in the United States at that?"

Seto didn't attempt to conceal the smile that formed upon his lips. "Yeah, and it all happens tomorrow."

Both brothers sat on the edge of Mokuba's bed, the sheets unkempt as usual. Seto sat in a white business suit with his legs extended and ankles crossed, while his little brother's toes barely met the floor. The raven-haired youth leapt up from his seat and fist-pumped the air. "All right! You're really doing it, Seto. Just like you said you would."

The elder brother nodded, stealing a glance out of the narrow window of the orphanage room. It seemed surreal to him as well. While he knew that he had a product to deliver, he did not think he'd succeed at capturing the attention of Industrial Illusion's president with having no title to his name. Now it was all a matter of closing a deal with the man, but Seto felt confident in his ability to sell. He could be rather persuasive when he wanted to be.

"Well, this is just great!" Mokuba cheered. "New York City! Take lots of pictures for me. I wish that I could go with you."

"One day I'll take you," Seto insisted. "Once I become a business partner to Pegasus we should be able to make trips around the world with ease."

This prospect excited the youth. He sat back down on the bed, looking up at his brother with admiration. "How soon will it be before I see you again?" he asked.

Seto's expression hardened; he hadn't worked that part out yet. It cost him nearly his entire wallet to rent a taxi to get to Fuyuki. He would barely have enough money for food in New York, let alone another trip to visit his dear brother anytime soon.

"I'm not sure yet," Seto admitted. "But I can promise you that it won't be long. After I convince Pegasus to contract my software I'll work on a payment plan, but more importantly I will be able to use him as a reference to get you out of here."

A simple smile reassured Seto that his brother was satisfied with his answer. He tackled Seto in a big bear hug, which he returned casually, patting the youth on the head.

"Thanks, Big Brother."

"Anytime, Little Bro."

The hour grew late, and the headmaster wouldn't tolerate Seto staying after hours. He already was skeptical about the teen's visitation, but could hardly refuse it on the sole basis of a grudge. Not desiring to create a stir, the brunet moved from the bed and knelt before Mokuba.

"Hang in there, all right?"

In response Mokuba nodded, yet eyes shifted to betray his disappointment.

"You betcha." His voice lacked enthusiasm. Seto gripped his shoulders firmly, pleading with his smile, yet he knew that it pained them both to part. This past month had been the most that the two were ever separated in their lives, which was not treating either of them kindly. At least Seto had the outside world to preoccupy him, but his brother? He was hardly as fortunate.

The elder brother tried to mentally block out Mokuba's pained expression as he exited the orphanage, glancing at his watch as he strode down the dark streets of Fuyuki. The contrast between the two cities was rather significant. With Domino's vastness came higher city funding, granting it better streets and traffic signs in addition to its lighting. Fuyuki was older and smaller, which showed throughout both its design and condition. Seto had never noticed this until he left.

He stopped at a corner between a cemetery and church, striding through grassy fields that had been neatly mowed with the coming of spring. The property was not owned, or at least to Seto's knowledge, which made it the perfect grounds to be retrieved by Industrial Illusions.

Awaiting at the far end of the field stood a black helicopter, its propeller in full rotation. In front of it stood a tall man in a black suit, his teal locks swept by the propeller's gusts. The moonlight defined his rough features and glinted against his shades, which he curiously wore well after the sun had set. Seto approached the individual, throwing an arm over his head to shield his eyes from the helicopter's glaring high beams.

"Would you be Croquet?" Seto asked, loud enough to be heard without yelling. In response the man nodded, taking a step closer to the orphan.

"Indeed," said the man. "Mr. Amakusa, I presume?"

"That's me."

"Master Pegasus wishes to express his warmest greeting, and that he looks forward to meeting you in New York City." Croquet adjusted his earpiece. "He regrets being unable to meet you here himself. Some unexpected business turned up that he needed to settle prior to his flight to the Americas."

Nothing more than he had expected. Seto was partially surprised that Pegasus would've even considered coming aboard this crude helicopter to meet with him personally. It wasn't as though he were the president of some important company, or anyone with a title for that matter.

"I understand," Seto replied with a nod. He lifted his suitcase, the size of a carry-on, and nodded in the direction of their vehicle. "Will there be enough room for my luggage on your 'copter? I packed light, just in case."

Croquet didn't take his eyes-or glasses-off of Seto when he responded with: "That's fine. It can sit behind us."

"Very good." A long awkward pause fell between them, making Seto a little uneasy. Finally the young man suggested, "Shall we be off then?"

"Yes, of course." Without as much as a subtle suggestion, Croquet snatched Seto's suitcase from him and tossed it in the back of the helicopter. The brunet narrowed his eyes at the disrespect placed on his belongings, but held his tongue. Being rude to one of Pegasus' suits was no way to start a business transaction.

Croquet climbed up into the cockpit before turning to Seto, his words unintelligible over the roar of the propeller. Thankfully it didn't take much guesswork to understand what Croquet was suggesting, so Seto followed suit and climbed into the opposite side of the helicopter. His teal-haired companion was already decked in a bulky headset, adjusting the many dials and switches before them.

"My apologies for having no refreshments to offer you," Croquet said dryly. "Our flight should be roughly fourteen hours, with a stop partway once we reach the coasts of California. Should you require anything then I would be happy to compensate you."

 _At least Pegasus Crawford treats his guests with considerable hospitality,_ Seto noted to himself, turning to glance at the pilot.

"I should be fine," Seto lied, well aware of the few hundred yen remaining in his pocket. "But I thank you for the offer."

"Well, it still stands if you change your mind." Croquet adjusted a dial, and took off from the ground. "I would suggest that you fasten your safety belt and keep it so throughout the duration of the flight. Turbulent winds are forecasted as we reach North America."

Seto grunted, feeling that he didn't need to be told to put on his safety belt like a child, but complied nonetheless.

Their flight was long and arduous, and several times Seto had to glance at the other seat to assure himself that Croquet hadn't fallen asleep at the controls. The suit was about as conversational as a mime, and, while Seto wasn't much for conversing with others, some conversation to kill time would've been welcomed.

"So where is this Duelist Kingdom located?" he inquired in a feeble attempt to make small talk.

Croquet made a sound between a grunt and cough, as though being startled back into reality. "It is on the outskirts of the Caribbean," was the suit's response, without so much as a sideways glance in Seto's direction. "Master Pegasus' late father bought the land but had done very little with it. It was mostly used for trades by other companies due to its convenient location. After Master Pegasus inherited it he chose to build his kingdom atop it."

"Fancy that he should give himself a kingdom," Seto said, perhaps more sardonically than he'd intended.

"He can give himself whatever sort of luxuries he pleases," said Croquet flatly, sensing Seto's sarcasm. "It is within his means, and he treats his employees fair and with respect."

Seto took in Croquet's testament with a grain of salt. Varying opinions were in circulation on Pegasus Crawford and his character. Some attested to his honor, whereas others voiced that he was a conniving businessman. Seto hadn't yet met him and so couldn't claim either attribute to be true, but he wasn't convinced that Pegasus was as noble as Croquet would make it seem.

Finally they had arrived in San Francisco to refuel and to refresh themselves. Despite their arrival in the United States of America, New York was on the opposite side of the country, leaving many long miles of travel ahead of them. Croquet, having flown from Duelist Kingdom to retrieve Seto, had been in the air the longest, yet he didn't appear exhausted. Apart of Seto wondered if the man was even human.

"I'm going to take a walk to that gas station over there," Seto informed Croquet, strolling over to the suited man as he refueled their carrier. "Can I get you anything?"

Seto kicked himself the moment that the words fled his mouth. He barely had enough funds as it were, let alone enough for this moron. In response Croquet withdrew some notes in US currency and shoved them in Seto's hand.

"An energy drink," Croquet responded. "Not diet. Use whatever is leftover on yourself. They won't take Japanese money where we're at."

"I know that," Seto snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets as he strode away. He didn't care to elaborate on the fact that he'd forgotten to convert his Japanese yen into the US dollar.

The Californian skies were still dark, despite it being ten hours since Seto had left Japanese shores. The time difference accounted for the darkness, though much to Seto's joy the stores were still open. Everything looked and felt vastly different from Japan, intriguing the young man. The layout of the store, the restrooms, and even the bulletins outside posting ads and news articles. He left the gas station feeling rather satisfied, despite the fact that he had yet to break into his sub sandwich or caffeinated soda. He felt only mildly ashamed that he spent the majority of Croquet's twenty-dollar bill on himself.

He returned to find Croquet already waiting for him back in the helicopter, sitting rigid and alert as always.

"Did you go through military training?" Seto asked mockingly, handing the teal-haired man his energy drink as requested. The man said nothing as he took it from him, running a pale finger along the rim before cracking it open.

"I don't understand the rationale of your question," Croquet said at long last.

"I mean that you've been flying for hours with no food or rest," Seto elaborated. "Are you sure that you don't want to get some sleep before heading to New York?"

In response Croquet brought the helicopter to a hover, before rising it fully into the sky. "Master Pegasus expects us to arrive by first light. There is no time to stop longer than necessary."

"So much for treating your employees with respect."

"It is what I am paid to do, Mr. Amakusa."

His last sentence was humorless, and Seto had a hard time discerning whether he offended him. He decided to play it safe and say nothing throughout the remainder of their journey, eating the remainder of his sandwich while gazing out the windshield. North America was beautiful, though didn't look significantly different from up in the sky. San Francisco looked practically the same as Domino, with the same skyscrapers and clusters of well-lit buildings that decorated the ground below like ornaments. Soon after flying over San Francisco they ascended higher into the clouds, making civilization impossible to view.

Seto must've managed to doze off, for it seemed that little had occurred between the completion of his sandwich, a witty comment to Croquet, and being told by the man that they were ready to disembark. He released his safety belt and stretched his numb legs, which felt even heavier than they had after the longest stretch of their flight. He went to reach for his luggage but found that Croquet had already done so.

"It will be delivered to your room," Croquet answered, reading Seto's expression. His suitcase was handed off to another one of Pegasus's men, dressed similarly to Croquet in a black suit, brown hair slicked up into a single spike. He loaded it into a long black limo, its doors open wide. Seto gave it a once-over, hiding his approval of their ride. He'd always wanted to travel in one of these.

A man emerged from the depths of the limo just as Seto prepared to enter it. He was taller than even the suits, silver sheets of hair falling over his shoulders as he rose to full height. He fixated Seto with a penetrating stare with one amber eye, his other being completely concealed from view by hair. The man hummed to himself.

"Mmm, you must be Seto Amakusa," he greeted, offering him a wide smile and outstretched hand. "Welcome to New York City, or at least the outskirts of it. I am Pegasus J. Crawford, but please just call me Pegasus. It is a pleasure to meet you at last."

Seto had known him before he even introduced himself thanks to the media, yet he had expected Pegasus to be different somehow. He accepted Pegasus' outstretched hand, shaking it firmly. "The pleasure is mine, Pegasus. Thank you for inviting me here, and most especially escorting me."

Pegasus tossed a hand in the air casually. "Oh, please, it was no trouble, really. Anything for a guest of honor." He further opened one of the limo's doors. "Please join me. We can exchange pleasantries on the way to our suites."

A suite? For him? Pegasus' hospitality stretched farther than Seto would've assumed, though he wasn't the least bit ungrateful. Money was not his strong suit at present, and he would accept any amount of charity that he was graced with.

"Very well," Seto responded, sliding into the spacious limo. The seats were plushy and soft, made from a fine beige leather. Pegasus climbed in behind him. Seto thought he caught a glimpse of something golden glint underneath his sheet of silver locks just before Kimo slammed the businessman's door, engulfing them in darkness. The windows were surprisingly well tinted.

"So tell me a little bit about yourself, Seto boy." It was as though Pegasus were conducting an interview, or at least that was how Seto perceived it. He cleared his throat, preparing to respond.

"Well, I recently graduated from Fuyuki High-"

"Uh-huh."

"And I plan to attend Domino University come fall, with a major in software engineering."

"I see. And?"

Seto paused, considering the curious man before continuing: "I have rather extensive experience with software design, having worked with it in school, as well as working with holographic projections during my internship with KaibaCorp last summer."

Pegasus flung his hair over his shoulder impatiently, turning to Seto in his seat. "That's all good and well, but you've told me very little about yourself."

Seto's brows furrowed into a frown, uncertain of where Pegasus was going with this.

"I want to know about you"-Pegasus waved his hand, a gesture he seemed to make often-"where you grew up, what you like to do, what kind of family you had. That sort of thing."

The brunet seemed slightly taken aback by this. The early sunlight infiltrated through the tinted windows, casting long shadows upon the back of the seats.

"I love anything that makes me think," Seto responded slowly. "I am a gamer at heart, especially strategy games. Chess and Duel Monsters are among my passions."

A smile crossed Pegasus' face. _Yes, this seems more up his alley._

"I was born and raised in Fuyuki to a middle class family," he continued. "My parents died when I was twelve, and I had been living in an orphanage until recently."

"Oh, how tragic! I am so sorry to hear of your loss." Pegasus crossed his legs and folded his hands neatly in his lap. "But I suppose you get that a lot, don't you?"

Seto shifted uncomfortably. "I used to, but it's old news now. I don't hear it often anymore."

"I find it quite rude that people dismiss the dead so readily," Pegasus murmured, turning to face the window as buildings flashed by. "Once they leave us it is as though they never existed, something which couldn't be farther from the truth. Wouldn't you agree, Seto boy?"

"Um, yeah. It's a shame."

Seto wasn't quite sure what to make of the businessman. At times he seemed so carefree and charismatic, whereas other moments, like just then, he seemed entirely stoic and emotional. He wasn't sure which he preferred, though felt that it was easier to talk to his more playful side.

"If I may direct a question toward you," Seto managed, breaking the awkward silence after talk of death and lost loved ones. "What made you create Duel Monsters? Are you a gamer as well?"

This question seemed to perk up the businessman. His eye seemed aglow as he quickly became animated again. "Oh, yes, I have loved games ever since I can remember! Risk, Monopoly, Checkers, Go. You name it, I've played it! It was perhaps my love for games that led me into creating Duel Monsters. That, and my passion for painting. I am an artist, you see, and I've hand-painted the designs of my cards."

This was news to Seto. While he'd always thought the art style on each Duel Monster card was unique and appealing, he hadn't realized that they were created by one artist, chiefly the creator of Duel Monsters himself.

Their conversation went on like this throughout the remainder of their ride, with each tossing questions at the other to learn more about their personal likes and dislikes. Throughout their journey Seto felt that he'd learned a fair bit about his prospective business partner: he'd been to Egypt numerous times, enjoyed wine and cheese, and loved comic book series no matter the genre. Once they arrived at the hotel Kimo opened the limo door on Seto's side, which prompted the young man to exit spontaneously. He'd partially expected Pegasus to follow suit, but instead the door was slammed shut and Pegasus remained inside, grinning at him.

"Aren't you coming, too?" Seto blurted, while Croquet unloaded Seto's luggage and brought it inside the twelve-story building.

The silver-haired man shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Seto boy, though believe me I greatly enjoyed our little chat. I have another business meeting to attend, but worry not: we will have plenty of time to ourselves tonight during the Duel Monsters tournament."

The limo started to move, while Pegasus waved outside of his open window. "Enjoy touring New York City!"

And he was gone, leaving a dumbfounded Seto in his wake, alongside the antenna-haired suit.

"Right this way, Mr. Amakusa," Kimo said, voice deeper than Seto had remembered. "I will show you to your room, and then you are welcome to do as you please until the tournament."

While touring New York City was an opportunity Seto was loathe to miss, he was most interested in catching some sleep. It had been over twenty-four hours since he'd had a good night's rest, and he wanted to be at his prime for his sales pitch that evening. The young man nodded in response to Kimo and followed the taller man inside the building, the tailcoat of his white business suit billowing behind him.


	5. Let's Duel!

**Author's Note:** Again, thank you for your prolonged interest in my story. You've made it this far, so that tells me something. :). I also am very grateful for your reviews. It helps to know of areas where I can improve, as well as find out what I'm doing right.

As the title indicates, I did a little something different throughout this chapter and incorporated a round of Duel Monsters. Writing a duel was particularly challenging because I wanted to portray the anime, but also wanted to keep things pared down so that there wasn't massive walls of text to read through. I would love to hear your thoughts on that particular scene, and if you would like to see more duels in the future.

Lastly, special thanks to Zeldawolf2000 for pointing out the potential issue of language barriers and proffering suggestions to resolve them.

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Let's Duel!**

Sleep alluded Seto for the four hours that he rested his head on a pillow. The bed was comfortable enough, and the curtains did a sufficient job at blocking out light, yet he still couldn't fall into anything akin to a restful sleep. Every once in a while he would doze off, only to be greeted by dreams where he'd failed at scoring a partnership with Pegasus. Another consisted of getting lost at the tournament, entering room after room and climbing dozens of staircases only to find a mutated two-headed puppy eating the remnants of a blueberry pie.

Rubbing his head and sitting upright, he decided that he would find more solace in being awake as opposed to rejuvenating himself via sleep. Seto snatched up his suitcase and shoved back the thick heavy drapes, revealing two glass french doors which led out to the balcony.

The fresh air smelled nice, despite the fact that it was polluted. The brunet leaned over the balcony railing and took a moment to absorb the city. Domino's traffic paled in comparison to the monstrosity that was New York City's roadways. At all hours Seto had managed to hear horns blaring, people shouting, and the constant squeaky brakes of buses and taxis arriving to retrieve passengers. It seemed that New York City never slept, which was both a bother and intriguing.

Seto clicked open his suitcase, shoving his clothes aside to reach for something buried at the bottom: his dueling deck. The cards were crisp and smooth. He couldn't recall the last time that he'd dueled anyone, and his desire to do so only increased with the upcoming tournament. He'd longed to be the best, to be someone whose name was feared when mentioned at a Duel Monsters championship. And yet, here he was: Seto Amakusa, the orphan boy who strove to simply be reunited with his little brother.

A rap at the door to his room seized Seto's attention. He slipped his deck into his pocket and slammed the suitcase shut.

"Yes?"

A blonde woman entered the room, dressed in a simple black gown and apron. "Housekeeping," she announced, apparently not having heard the young man from out on the balcony. Seto's cobalt eyes were cold when they lifted to meet her warm brown ones.

"Come back later," he told her emotionlessly. "I'm rather busy at the moment."

Of course he didn't look particularly busy, but the housekeeper chose not to argue that point.

"Alrighty, not a problem, sir," she said, offering Seto a half smile before leaving the room. He wasn't sure what particularly bothered him about the encounter, but he chose to follow suit and leave the room as well, once he was certain that enough time passed that he wouldn't bump into her on the way out.

The resort was expansive, with twelve stories and countless amenities. Seto had been informed of several by Kimo as he checked into his suite. While nothing particularly attracted him, he still found them rather intriguing to examine. He passed by the swimming quarters, filled with at least three pools and a sauna, as well as the gym. It contained lots of equipment, some of which Seto had never even seen, and was packed with guests from wall to wall. It was a wonder how they found room to work out.

As he continued down the hall he found a library, which he took a moment to explore. Amidst rows and rows of bookcases stood several desks littered with computer equipment, most preoccupied by eager teens wearing bulky headsets. The brunet considered getting on one, unable to recall the last time that he'd sat at a computer desk, but was uncertain of the log-in procedures and no employee was available to ask. He drifted on to the next room, which caught his interest even more than the library.

Inside was a lounge, with sofas and recliners in addition to several tables and chairs. Huddled in the center of the room sat over a dozen young adults, all observing two individuals deeply engaged in a round of Duel Monsters. Both players had thick graveyards and thin decks. Though Seto was unable to see their life point score from where he sat, he had the feeling that this duel wasn't going to last much longer. Sure enough, after three turns one of the kids summoned Gaia the Fierce Knight, obliterating the remainder of his opponent's life points.

"Wow, that's your third victory, Simon."

"Way to go, Simon!"

"You're going to be rich by the time that you leave here."

The redhead winner grinned, freckles covering every square inch of his visage. Seto inched closer to the crowd to get a better look at the scenario. The scores had not been even close, with the winner having a 3000-life point advantage since the start.

 _It's a shame that the other kid doesn't even know what he's doing_ , Seto thought to himself, glancing at the scowling youth who handed the victor his rarest card. It was a Witch of the Black Forest, a useful monster and yet not one that Seto hadn't seen. Simon took it without so much as a word of thanks, shoving it into his deck before glancing around the room eagerly.

"Any other takers?"

No one volunteered. A few girls muttered to themselves and searched through their decks, though said nothing to the grinning victor perched upon his chair. Finally Seto strode forward, reaching into his pocket.

"You're on," he said, slamming his deck on the opposite end of the table. Simon glanced over at Seto's cards, before meeting his eye and offering him a smile.

"You must be new." His grin twisted into something more akin to a sneer. "I'm Simon Romefeller, and I've won three duels in a row. I haven't lost a match in years."

Seto closed his eyes, taking a seat before the duelist. "All the more reason to duel you, then. Don't want your victory streak to run too deep."

A few individuals made a disapproving sound at Seto's threat, but Simon looked unperturbed. He withdrew a single card from his deck, glancing at it before meeting Seto's eye. "My rules," he started, laying his card face-up on the table, "is that we each put up our rarest card for grabs. The winner takes all."

 _Fair enough,_ Seto thought, as he began to sift through his deck for his rarest card. He fell short, however, when his eyes met with the card that Simon placed. It was a Blue-Eyes White Dragon, a card that had only four copies in circulation and one that Seto had longed for ever since he started playing the game. He had loved it so much that his brother drew him a personalized copy of the card, Seto swearing that one day he'd acquire one. And now that day had come. _I have to win this duel._

Seto procured his copy of Gift of the Mystical Elf and laid it alongside the Blue-Eyes before both respective owners inserted their rare cards back into their decks and handed them to their opponent. They followed customary dueling procedures of cutting their opponent's deck and drawing their starting hand of five cards. Simon brought his brown eyes to meet Seto.

"We'll start with four thousand life points," Simon informed him. "I'll let you go first, since you're obviously going to lose."

A chuckle escaped Seto as he drew a card from the top of his deck, initiating the start of his turn. "Fine. Whatever you say."

The brunet took a moment to reflect on his hand. It wasn't a bad start by any means, though he didn't have much strength at his disposal. His strategy relied heavily on overwhelming his opponent with brute force, leaving them defenseless and incapable of summoning a strong enough monster to take him down. Knowing that Simon had a Blue-Eyes White Dragon changed everything, however, as Seto knew for certain that he possessed the strongest monster between them.

He selected two cards from his hand. "I play the Hitotsu-Me Giant in attack mode, and lay one card face down." He offered Simon one of his rare smiles. "It's your move."

The Giant wasn't strong, but it would serve as a lure. Seto watched in anticipation as his opponent drew a card, awaiting the moment for Simon to declare an attack. The redhead was at least decent in predicting moves, however, as his next sequence of plays were much to Seto's approval.

"First, since I know you've laid a trap for me, I'll play Remove Trap."

Fair enough. Seto removed his face down trap card and placed it in his graveyard.

"Now that that's out of the way, I summon Dark Elf in attack mode."

This was a card that Seto didn't see often. He studied the card that his opponent laid face-up on the field. The Dark Elf possessed 2000 attack points, making it 800 points stronger than his Hitotsu-Me Giant. This was a blow, to be certain, but Simon took a heftier hit than himself. For each attack that the Dark Elf dealt, the owner of the card would take 1000 points of damage to their life points. Something that Simon couldn't do often, but the card would serve as an advantageous monster to keep on the field.

It soon was Seto's turn, to which he set a monster in face-down defense position. The two went back and forth like this for several turns, until Seto managed to sacrifice a monster to summon Judge Man, possessing 2200 attack points. He then took the lead, which he held for several turns, eliminating each monster that Simon put into play. Even though he felt that he was giving Simon a run for his money, the redhead remained calm as he continued to play each monster in defense position, eventually setting one of his monsters in face-down defense position.

Seto frowned, considering his opponent's recent move. It was out of the ordinary for Simon to play a card in such a position from what Seto had observed, and even rarer for him to bluff. Regardless, he felt that he had no choice but to declare an attack, which was the beginning of his descent.

"A move that I foresaw you make," Simon stated, failing to conceal his mirth. "Behold! Maiden with Eyes of Blue."

Seto realized the gravity of his mistake the moment that his opponent's card was flipped face-up and placed in attack position. It must've shown on his face, as Simon wasted no time in remarking: "Looks like I don't even need to explain what this card does. I have to hand it to you, kid: you know your Duel Monsters."

At this Seto scoffed and crossed his arms. "Please. Even an amateur knows what the Maiden with Eyes of Blue does, and it doesn't take much to figure out what you'll do with it."

The Maiden grants its user to summon a Blue-Eyes White Dragon from either deck, graveyard, or hand upon receiving an attack. It doesn't take damage, but instead its position is changed. Simon wasted no time in placing his prized Blue-Eyes on the field alongside his Maiden, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"My turn?" he asked, hand hovering over his deck.

Seto brought his cobalt eyes to meet his opponent's coldly. "Not so fast." He slammed another card from his hand to the table, a monster called La Jinn, the Mystical Genie of the Lamp. With its 1800 attack points he demolished Simon's Maiden, also incurring 1800 points of damage to his life points since the Maiden had no attack points to her name.

The standings were still in Seto's favor, with life points of 3200 hundred for himself and a total of 1000 for Simon. That would not last long, however, now that Simon's Blue-Eyes was brought into play.

The damage was dealt mercilessly, destroying Seto's La Jinn in the process. The young man took 1200 points of damage, dropping his total score to 2000. He still held the lead, but just barely. The field now heavily played to Simon's advantage, and he knew that it'd be harder for him to regain the upper hand with the Blue-Eyes in play.

Seto drew another card and groaned inwardly. It was a Mystical Elf, a monster which wouldn't particularly help him presently. Regardless, it was his strongest defense, leading him to place it in defense mode along with another card face down. He watched, expression revealing nothing, as Simon drew and began to execute his move.

"It's the beginning of the end for you," Simon declared, seizing a card from his hand and laying it on the table. "I call forth Hibikime in attack position."

A relatively weak Warrior-type monster that held no special effects to its name, though Simon didn't need much additional power to take Seto down. He destroyed Seto's Mystical Elf using his Blue-Eyes White Dragon, and deducted 1450 life points from Seto's tally utilizing his latest addition, leaving Seto with but a mere 550 points.

It was looking relatively grim for the Japanese player, but he knew that he had the cards to still win. Both had life points within relation to each other, and low enough that they could be taken out of the game with a single blow. Seto's next draw would determine who would win that hefty blow.

Shadow Spell. It was a useful card to be certain, though not enough to win the duel on its own. In combination with his working hand, however, he stood a much greater chance. Seto smiled darkly.

"It's been fun playing with you, Simon. But this match-and your Blue-Eyes-are mine."

All enthusiasm left Simon's eyes as he lifted them from the playing table, a frown furrowing his brow.

"I don't get it."

"Then observe."

Seto played a sequence of cards, first starting with his Koumori Dragon from his hand. He then played both Rush Recklessly and Shadow Spell, a magic and trap card respectively. Rush Recklessly increased Koumori Dragon's attack power by 700 points, while Shadow Spell simultaneously decreased Simon's Hibikime by 700. This placed Seto's dragon at 2200 attack points, with Hibikime resting at a mere 750. It was over, the difference between clashes more than deducting Simon's life points to zero. In the former champion's fury he snatched the score card from the meek scorekeeper and tore it. Seto frowned and crossed his arms.

"It's your own fault for playing such a pathetic monster in attack mode with your life points so low," Seto sneered. "A sneeze would've wiped you out."

This only frustrated Simon even more. He swept his cards off the table and shoved them in his pocket, quite likely bending a few in the process.

"You just got lucky with your draw," was Simon's weak defense, rising from the table.

He began to move away through the parting crowd, whom seemed indifferent in response to their former champion's loss. Seto rose from his seat, a frown furrowing his brow as he thought of only one thing: that Blue-Eyes.

"What about the prize I won?" he called out, to which gave Simon pause. The redhead glanced over his shoulder, expression filled with contempt.

"You have not shown yourself worthy to own it, _kid_."

Seto was tempted to lash back, fist shaking with fury, though before he had the chance he heard a familiar voice drawl in his favor: "And what makes you more worthy than Seto boy, hmm?"

The Industrial Illusions president stood in the doorway, wine glass in hand. He barred any from exiting as he withdrew a sip slowly, as though savoring both tastes of the moment and the beverage.

Simon gave pause upon Pegasus' appearance. Simon offered him an awkward bow, causing Seto to snort. "Pegasus Crawford! Sir! I did not know that you were watching."

Another long sip was drawn from the wine glass. Pegasus eyed him with his single amber eye, expression unreadable.

"I wasn't. I was merely coming in to enjoy my wine while waiting for my cheese when I saw a duel being conducted with my prospective business partner"-he jerked his head toward Seto, which was followed by the room's many eyes-"and here it seems you are denying him the prize he won fair and square. Where is your sense of honor?"

The former champion grew paler by the minute. It was apparent that he held Pegasus in high esteem, yet his fondness for his Blue-Eyes fought against his desire to comply.

"But sir." His gaze faltered to the ground, hand reaching toward his pocket. "This Blue-Eyes means the world to me. It was won by my brother who gave it to me as a prize and-"

"And it no longer belongs to you," Pegasus finished abruptly, slamming his glass upon the nearest table. A pair of girls jumped at the clang of glass against glass. "You have no right making gambles if you are not willing to own up to defeat and chalk out prizes which are rightfully earned. Now, give the boy your card like a true duelist, or walk away with shame in front of all these people."

For a moment Seto thought that the youth would faint. His hand balled into a fist, trembling viciously. He stumbled over to Seto, practically throwing the card at him. It cascaded onto the floor, which Seto wasted no time in swooping down to retrieve, as though it were treasured gold that everyone would immediately dive bomb for.

"Treat it well," was all that Simon said, before exiting through the doorway that Pegasus no longer blocked. Several of Simon's adoring fans followed after him. For a few moments silence reigned, Seto staring at Pegasus while he sipped his wine, eyes closed.

"Do you know who that boy was?"

The question should not have been hard, yet Seto raised a brow.

"Sure. Simon Romefeller."

A smile flashed across Pegasus' face, one which Seto didn't know how to interpret. "Yes, and do you know who _that_ is?"

The silence which ensued must've been enough uncertainty for Pegasus, as the silver-haired man continued with: "Simon Romefeller is the United Kingdom's regional champion, and renowned duelist across the world."

"Renowned?" Seto repeated, feeling like a fool. His English was fair and he could hold the average conversation, though some uncommon words still alluded him.

Pegasus waved a hand impatiently. "I mean he is famous, popular."

The young man glanced down at his new Blue-Eyes. Seto had never heard of Simon until now, but it made sense that he was indeed famous. It would explain how he'd come to possess a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Seto shook his head.

"For someone famous he certainly could use to learn a thing or two about Duel Monsters," he stated bluntly, causing a smirk to grow upon the businessman's face. "He made several bold decisions that cost him the match. His plans should've been more flawless, like mine."

"So you would say that your plans are flawless, hmm?"

Seto hadn't realized how arrogant he sounded until Pegasus reiterated his statement. He tucked his new card in with the rest of his deck, carefully avoiding Pegasus' scrutiny. "I think my moves over before enacting them, while always keeping a backup plan in mind. Nothing should be thrown to the winds of chance in a duel."

When Seto lifted his gaze he found Pegasus watching him, smirk expanded. This time Seto was certain that something shimmered under his sheet of silver hair, but before he could further study its source the man turned his head.

"Maybe you are a pretty good duelist after all." The man picked up his empty wine glass and began to head out the door, pausing midway to add: "Let us see what you make of tonight's events at the championship."

 _Or, rather, how you_ make _at tonight's events at the championship._


	6. The Championship

**Chapter Six: The Championship**

The hours passed monotonously. Seto had already paced his suite a total of fifteen times, stroked his Blue-Eyes White Dragon twice that number, and was finally strolling the streets of downtown New York City in hopes of finding something new to pass the time with. The adrenaline from winning his duel against Simon had lingered into the evening, even through dinner with Pegasus' suits. It had been one of the queerest meals that Seto had ever sat down to, with only Kimo and Croquet for company, both of whom couldn't be any less talkative. The meal took place in the hotel's dining saloon, and the bill, thankfully, was placed on Pegasus' running tab. It was curious to Seto that Pegasus hadn't the courtesy to show himself for dinner. When the young man inquired into the matter, however, he was curtly informed that the billionaire had "other business to attend to."

 _Pegasus can't get out of this one_ , Seto thought to himself, tucking in the collar of his white suit. Even if he had been attending "other business" during the duration of the trip he would doubtlessly be attending the Duel Monsters championship. The young man had been fine-tuning his sales pitch all afternoon, ensuring that he would hit upon selling points that would potentially win the flamboyant man's business. As he began to mentally rehearse his speech a black limo pulled up to the curb, the familiar sheet of silver glistening from within.

"Okay, Seto boy, it's time at last!" Pegasus grinned from the backseat as Kimo, emerging from the front, opened the door for Seto to enter. "Are you ready to watch two champions duke it out?"

Seto merely nodded in response, claiming his seat alongside Pegasus and crossing his legs. The two said very little over the course of their commute, which surprised Seto since Pegasus had proved himself to be quite the active conversationalist. The congested streets halted their limo several times, sometimes for a duration of ten minutes. The brunet gritted his teeth in dismay as he watched a taxi stop in the middle of the street to board a young couple. They had ample time to arrive, but Seto wasn't appreciative of the lack of courtesy that the other driver displayed. Apparently others were not either, given the many horns that blared from all directions at the spectacle.

After an hour of an arduous game of stop-and-go, the men finally arrived at the auditorium where the intercontinental championship was taking place. Seto bolted out of the limo, too impatient to wait for Kimo to tend him. He scanned the premises with a frown. The parking lot was cram-packed with vehicles, the crowds⎯predominately families with children⎯jabbing loudly as they strolled toward the building. The brunet was slightly disappointed, having expected more out of such a large international event.

A hand clapped his shoulder, arresting Seto from his thoughts. The teen's cobalt eyes shifted to the red-suited man alongside him, who nodded sympathetically. "I know, it does not look like much, but it is still a big deal," he said, as though reading Seto's mind. "Duel Monsters is still just emerging, Seto boy, and like all good things it must start slowly. We're lucky that we were even able to rent out this building for the event."

The limo chirped as Croquet locked its doors, the pair of suits taking the lead as the four strode toward the long rectangular building. Seto fell in line with Pegasus, the businessman having a smile plastered to his face as he greeted several elementary-school children who recognized him. He even was willing to sign a boy's favorite Duel Monster card with his signature Toon World pen.

The LED street lights glared at the foursome as they approached the entrance, causing Seto to nearly walk right past the security guard without catching sight of her. Croquet shuffled through his pocket and procured four tickets. Now Seto understood why he wore shades after dark.

"You may proceed," the woman said, ripping their tickets in half and returning the stubs to the teal-haired man. "Welcome to the Intercontinental Duel Monsters Tournament!" Her voice lacked the enthusiasm that she put into her tone, causing her last sentence to come out as a forced growl. Pegasus seemed to turn a deaf ear, however, and proceeded to offer her one of his charismatic smiles and a simple wave of the hand. "Oh, we will, we will, rest assured."

Seto's pupils shrunk as they were assaulted with even more light upon entering the building, eventually relenting to the prospect that they would be surrounded by intense lights throughout the duration of the evening. The auditorium was dome-shaped, its aisles rising high with rows of filled seats. Many fans cheered at the top of their lungs, and a group of patriotically-dressed teenage girls held up a hand-written sign reading: "We love Bandit Keith!" in hot-pink letters. At this Seto merely scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Bandit Keith, huh? What kind of a name is that?"

A smirk found its way onto Pegasus' face. "It's a nickname, one that he obtained after becoming a champion of Duel Monsters in America. His real name is Keith Howard."

"I see." Seto stole a glance around the auditorium. At the center sat a lone table surrounded by a ring of chairs. Seto presumed that these seats were reserved for entitled guests such as themselves. The majority were vacant, with the exception of five or so businessman. From the far end of the room a muscular blond man in a bandana and shades started down a flight of stairs. The screams within the room grew louder, and the patriotic girls couldn't contain their enthusiasm. They leapt up from their seat, shaking their banner with the most ferocity Seto had ever witnessed. He could only conclude that the man was Keith Howard, who shook hands with the referee and waved to the crowd before taking a seat at the table.

At some point Pegasus' suits departed, as Seto realized that it was only him and Pegasus that descended a flight of stairs into the center of the auditorium. Bandit Keith had his back to them, the metallic stars on his leather jacket gleaming in the light.

"Well, well, if it isn't Bandit Keith," Pegasus drawled, waving a hand casually. "I have heard so much about you. It is almost as if we've met."

The seat seemed as though it were much too small to contain the man. He spun around, leaping up and lowering his shades. A grin cracked the corner of his mouth as his ice-blue eyes sparkled.

"Ah, you must be Pegasus Crawford." He had a thick American accent, Seto noticed, with a slang that he couldn't decipher. "Pleasure. And who's this punk?"

He held out a hand to shake Pegasus', jerking his head in the direction of the Japanese youth. Seto's scowl only deepened as Pegasus rested his free hand on his shoulder.

"This here is my prospective business partner, Seto Amakusa. He came all the way from Japan to attend this event."

Keith raised a brow, scrutinizing Seto more carefully before scoffing. "I couldn't care less if he came from Timbuktu." He resumed his seat at the dueling table, palms outstretched along the mat. "You ready to duel me, Cutie Pie?"

"Wait, you're the other duelist?" Seto blurted, realization suddenly hitting him. As the Duel Monsters' creator it seemed only fitting that Pegasus came to spectate. Seto would've thought that contesting against others would've been below him, yet all the evidence pointed to Pegasus' participation.

Pegasus' eye glinted curiously as he regarded Seto. "No, Seto boy. You are."

For a moment their eyes locked, ice and fire. Neither said a word until finally Keith slammed his fist against the table and protested. "What?! What nonsense are you trying to pull, Pegasus? Asking for help's illegal!"

The businessman seemed as calm as a cucumber, his grin wide. "I don't _need_ help," Pegasus responded coolly. "Anyone could beat you, Keith, and I'm going to prove it."

 _So I'm just anyone to him,_ Seto thought bitterly, trying to keep a neutral face despite his wounded pride. Pegasus pulled him aside, out of earshot, and withdrew a sheet of paper from his pocket.

"Pegasus," Seto began, his frustration intensifying. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you what you need to win," Pegasus responded, scribbling something on the paper before handing it to the young man. "Just follow these instructions along with my deck. I'm sure that you will be able to take him down. That should teach him some humility and respect."

Seto frowned, unfolding the paper. It listed which cards Keith would try to play, and what would be useful to counter them. It did puzzle Seto that Pegasus had managed to procure such information. Had he been meticulously following Bandit Keith's duels and knew his very strategies by heart? It must've been. Regardless, Seto crumbled the sheet of paper and allowed it to fall.

"I don't need your help to win," Seto responded coolly. "If you're going to have me duel him I'm going to do this my own way, and with my own cards."

This seemed to displease Industrial Illusions' president. "But Seto, you know next to nothing about Keith. I only proposed that you duel him because⎯"

"Because you thought you'd cheat to ensure I'd win?" Seto shot him a glare. "Sorry, but that seems above you, Pegasus, and I'm not willing to be your lapdog. You either have me duel him on my own terms, or you duel him yourself."

In retrospect Seto realized that he shouldn't have spoken to Pegasus in such a manner. Not only was he the creator of Duel Monsters, but also the man whom he wished to do business with. Pegasus' eye narrowed dangerously.

"Is it honor that prompts you, Seto, or pride?" He proffered Seto a smile devoid of its usual mirth. "This isn't just a game. It is my company's entire reputation at stake. I can't go throwing it to the wind, trusting in some boy that I hardly know with no more than a few thousand yen in his pocket and no more to his name."

A frown furrowed Seto's brow. How did he know that? Did he truly look like a pauper?

"It is no way to successfully run a business," Pegasus continued, his hand finding his pocket. "I thought you would understand that."

"Then you duel him," Seto stated flatly, disregarding his conscience. " I will take no part in your cheap tricks."

It was obvious that the childish man was used to getting his way, and Seto's lack of compliance was starting to gnaw at him. Pegasus appeared flustered as he brushed back his hair, Seto noticing that he was missing his left eye. In its place rested a golden sphere, the Eye of Horus engraved on its face. His eyes fell upon it but for the moment that it was exposed, as Pegasus was quick to conceal it again.

"All right, Seto boy, you win," Pegasus conceded. "But as a little incentive, how about we raise the stakes?"

Seto shifted uncomfortably. "How so?"

A smile flickered upon Pegasus' face as he withdrew a coin from his pocket. He flipped it. "If you lose this duel you will leave New York City a poor man, but"⎯the coin landed on Pegasus' outstretched palm heads-up⎯"if you win I will help you adopt your baby brother."

Now how did he know _that?_ Seto was certain that he never told Pegasus about his intention to adopt Mokuba. He was careful to keep personal affairs out of their business operation. When prompted to speak of his family Seto declined in favor of discussing his passion for Duel Monsters deliberately. Even if Pegasus were able to dig up the existence of his little brother, it was impossible that he knew of Seto's desire to adopt him. Something was certainly awry.

Regardless, the deal was favorable; too favorable for Seto to pass up, especially since he was confident that he would win. Pegasus' smile intensified as Seto made up his mind, as though sensing the youth's decision before voicing it. "Fine, I accept your terms. You must promise me, though, that you'll stay true to your word."

"I vow to help you get your baby brother out of that orphanage and into your hands if you win," Pegasus reassured him, words chosen with care.

Seto felt that more conditions should have been made, but there was no time for further debate. Bandit Keith and the audience were growing restless; it was time to give them a duel.

Both men emerged from the shadows, Pegasus clapping the youth on the shoulder as he fixated his amber eye on Keith. "In my stead I would like Seto Amakusa to duel you," he voiced. "If this is acceptable to you."

Keith considered Seto for a moment before cocking a brow. "Too scared to duel me yourself, Pansy?"

"No, I just think that our match would be over too soon, and it would not give the audience enough excitement this evening. I have no doubt that you will still lose, Bandit Keith, but at least we can give everyone a good show." He opened his arms to the audience, which was answered by cries and deafening cheers. They had no idea what was happening, but they were seeing their Duel Monsters champions and thus it didn't matter. Keith seemed uneasy at Pegasus' confidence, yet consented to dueling Seto in his wake.

"Don't keep me waiting any longer than I have, kid. I've got a date to catch."

There were several murmurs throughout the crowd following Pegasus' disappearance to the front lines, and even more when Seto sat before the US champion. The referee brought them each a headset with a microphone.

"These are connected to the auditorium's speakers," he informed the duelists. "That way everyone can hear you." He pressed a button on a remote control, and their dueling mats appeared on the blank wall alongside them. This was to ensure that the audience could follow their duel in addition to their verbal account, which seemed like a good idea.

"Now, you will each shuffle your opponent's deck and draw a card," the referee continued. "Whoever draws the strongest monster chooses who will go first."

 _Fair enough,_ Seto thought, surrendering his deck to his opponent. Keith flashed him a smile revealing nearly all of his pearly whites. "Got anything beyond a level five monster in here, Punk?"

Seto returned the smile, shuffling Keith's cards meticulously without shifting his gaze from him. "Just you wait." _I doubt that he expects me to hold one of the world's rarest cards._

From the sidelines Pegasus seemed amused as well. He'd been given a bag of popcorn that he was sharing with another suited man, jabbing incessantly and gesturing to Seto every now and again. Seto didn't know why this irked him, but he didn't have much time to linger on it, as it was time for their duel to begin.

They each drew a card from their respective decks, as instructed. Bandit Keith flashed off a Cannon Soldier, while Seto held a Rude Kaiser. The brunet closed his eyes as he drew the remaining cards to fill his hand. "Looks like I'll go first."

The crowd remained silent between every move, allowing the duelists time to think in peace. Their voices were heard upon each move, however, their roars greeting the cards that Seto and Keith placed upon the table. Their match thus far was solid; Keith was an exceptional duelist, and far more skilled than Simon. Seto found himself hard-pressed to hold his line of defense against the American, the latter's machine-type monsters producing quite the deadly combination.

They played by a different set of rules than that of which Seto was familiar. Starting with only two-thousand life points each, they didn't require tributes to summon monsters of greater strength, allowing each to summon forth their level five and above monsters at the start of the match, if they so desired. This would be advantageous for Seto when it came time to summon his Blue-Eyes White Dragon, but it also meant that Keith was able to bring forth his most powerful machines early on.

Fate didn't seem to favor Seto. Each card he drew was one of little use to him; a mere pawn to place on the field for destruction. Fifteen-hundred life points later, Seto was looking a Barrel Dragon in the face, its 7 Completed magic card making it even stronger than his Blue-Eyes, should he manage to play it. The next card that Seto drew was a DeSpell card, which was a simple solution to the equipped card.

At long last his moment of glory arrived. Keith's eyes widened as Seto placed his Blue-Eyes White Dragon onto the field, followed by squeals from the crowd.

"No way! How could some kid like you own a rare card like that?!" Keith demanded.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Keith," Seto sneered. "And something that you're going to learn about me soon is that I don't lose."

Seto took down his Barrel Dragon along with eight hundred of his life points. It wouldn't be much longer now; soon Pegasus would have to keep his word to contract his software and help him save Mokuba. The young man could almost envision the jubilant look on Mokuba's face as they slipped past the orphanage gates, hand-in-hand, to their new home in Domino City.

"Anyone ever tell you that you assume too much?"

Keith's jeering drew Seto back to the present, his eyes resting upon Keith's latest monster. Zoa, a fiend with no special effects to his name, was placed on the field in attack mode, in addition to two face-down cards. Seto considered them briefly. Zoa was not a monster of particular strength, or at least not enough to take down his Blue-Eyes.

The face-down cards troubled him, however. Was Keith the type to bluff? Seto was not certain. He'd already bluffed once at the start of their duel; it was plausible that he would bluff again to deter Seto from attacking and claiming the match. As such, Seto declared his attack, causing Keith to crack a grin,

"I knew you couldn't resist." He flipped one of his face-down cards, which happened to be the trap card Metalmorph. "This fancy card here grants my Zoa an extra three-hundred attack points."

Even still, Seto's dragon would've easily defeated him, its attack power still an extra hundred. Why was Keith wasting his card?

He moved to flip the next one, which was Magic Metal Force. This increased his monster by four-hundred points, outmatching the Blue-Eyes. The scores were close, with Seto maintaining only two-hundred life points. Even a scratch would send him out of the tournament and diminish all hope that he had of working with Pegasus.

While the Blue-Eyes White Dragon didn't claim Seto the match, another set of cards did. First he utilized Heavy Storm to clear the playing field of magic and trap cards, leaving Keith's Zoa no more than your standard fiend. He then played a magic card called Mesmeric Control, reducing Zoa by eight-hundred points. This left him vulnerable at 1800 attack points, which Seto wasted no time in obliterating by using his Swordstalker at 2000 points.

The referee lifted a hand while the auditorium exploded. Applause and cheers resounded throughout, along with several boos and hisses emerging from Bandit Keith's fanbase. The American howled in rage, slamming both fists on the table and sending his cards flying in all different directions. While he uttered obscenities Seto's eye met with Pegasus. The Duel Monsters creator had his eye closed, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

"The winner of this match⎯" the referee began, failing to proceed with his announcement when Keith grasped Seto by the collar and yanked him off his feet.

"Just who do you think you are?!" Keith spat in his face. "Some cheap kid waltzing in here on Pegasus' coattails, thinking he can come to make a fool out of me?!"

The collar was tightening painfully around Seto's neck and against his windpipe. He grasped Keith's hand firmly in an attempt to free himself, but the man was stronger than he looked. "You're doing a fine job on your own," Seto hissed, while two security guards worked to pry Keith off of him.

The former champion's face turned beet-red, fury dancing off his entire form. "I'll get you for this one day, Amakusa! You have my word!" Keith could say no more, as he was whisked away out of sight, quite likely put under custody for getting physical.

The referee cleared his throat, causing Seto to glance over. "As I was saying, the winner of this match is Pegasus J. Crawford's representative: Seto Amakusa!" The crowd boomed again, which made Seto well up in pride. When he turned his gaze to the front row he found many unfamiliar faces applauding him, though Pegasus was nowhere in sight. Anxiety seized him as he craned his neck, frantically seeking that red-suited man from within each row. _What about our deal?_


	7. Mokuba's Stepfather

**Author's note:** I want to greatly apologize for the delay in this update. Many things came up, and I have had the hardest time getting this transitional chapter out. I am still not pleased with the end result, but I would rather move forward than rewrite this yet again. I hope that it is sufficient and that you all will enjoy.

Most importantly, I want to thank you all for your reviews! I have greatly enjoyed hearing all of your thoughts and suggestions regarding this story. Thank you for giving me the encouragement that I need to continue this project.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Mokuba's Stepfather**

"What do you mean 'he's already left'?" demanded a very angry Seto as he approached Croquet regarding the missing billionaire. "We had a deal; he was going to contract me on!"

The teal-haired man seemed unfazed by Seto's temper tantrum. His shades glinted under the intense street lamps outside the auditorium. "Master Pegasus is a man of his word," he said in a monotone voice. "He will never back out of a deal. However, he has already retired for the night, Mr. Amakusa, and I will not be bothering him. Your business can wait until morning."

Yet business was never conducted that morning, either. Seto had searched the entire resort for Pegasus Crawford, eventually greeting his back around noontime. He moved to approach him as the man entered his black limo, but was blockaded by two of Pegasus' men.

"Stand aside," Seto ordered. "I have to talk to him."

One of the men folded his arms over his chest, looking at Seto down his long pointed nose. "We have been given directions from Master Pegasus to thank you for winning the Duel Monsters Championship on his behalf. As a token of his appreciation, he would like to give you this." The bodyguard extended a small shallow box. Inside rested a Duel Monster card of an original design, though Seto wasn't impressed. He shoved the box aside, refusing to be diverted from the matter at hand.

"I don't care about some measly prize," he sneered. "I need to speak with Pegasus. He promised to contract my software, and–"

"We have also been given instructions to escort you to the earliest flight back to Japan," continued the suit, his tone a little less friendly. "Courtesy of Master Pegasus."

Seto's jaw slackened, hands balling into fists at his sides. "I thought Pegasus didn't back out of deals."

"And he does not. You will be hearing from him soon, I am certain."

Whether the man was truly certain or simply determined to stave off Seto's fury was unknown, yet Seto knew that he wouldn't get far by further instigating a fight with the bodyguard. His best option was to comply and trust that these men spoke the truth about his prospective business partner. Even still, Seto felt something was amiss. Was Pegasus avoiding him? And if so, why? Seto could only think of one reason, which was skirt his way out of their agreement, yet it was contrary to his character that his employees swore by.

The brunet backed away from the bodyguard, backtracking through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioned hotel. It would take time for Pegasus' cronies to sort out his return flight, and his stomach rumbling reminded him that he'd shirked breakfast in favor of hunting Pegasus down. The closure of the allotted breakfast time window neared, but this was a five-star hotel; anything could be ordered at any time. He sat down at one of the lone tables after ordering a bagel. He didn't know much about them from Japan, but he'd heard tell that New York offered some of the very best.

A group of chatty girls made their way into the otherwise quiet saloon, taking up a table alongside Seto. None of them paid him so much as a glance, instead burrowing their faces into a single menu that they shared. Partially out of interest, but mostly boredom, Seto watched them as they tried to decipher what they wanted for lunch. It wasn't until one of them rambled excitedly about the duel from yesternight that Seto recognized them as the Bandit Keith fangirls waving their banner. They looked so different without their patriotic attire.

"Didn't he look so hot last night?" one of them gushed. "I feel that he looked even more hot when flustered."

"I know! I can't believe that some random kid actually won."

 _Some random kid,_ Seto thought dully, taking a bite out of the bagel that a waiter brought over for him. That was all that he was viewed as: some random kid that managed to best a champion, despite the fact that he was the honored guest of Pegasus Crawford and owner of one of the world's rarest cards. He decided to tune the girls out after that, and he soon would've forgotten them entirely had one of them not bumped into him as she spun around.

"Oh!" She turned her hazel eyes up to meet his cobalt ones, auburn hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, sir. I wasn't watching where I was going."

Seto grunted, though didn't have anything witty to retort with. After all, the girl was apologizing to him, and even admitted that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's fine."

The girl was young, younger than Seto had initially assumed. Probably no older than fourteen, with a rather frail look about her slight frame. She watched him for a moment. He was about to ask her if something was wrong, until she scrunched up her nose and said, "Wait, I know you! You're Seto Amakusa from the Duel Monsters championship last night!"

 _At least she remembered my name,_ he thought. _Better than being some "random kid."_

"That's me," he responded quietly, unintentionally catching the attention of the other girls.

"Wow, it's nice to actually meet you!" Her smile was wide and genuine, and Seto couldn't help but feel warmed by it. She held out a pallid hand to shake his. "I'm Serenity Wheeler."

He accepted her small hand in his, giving it a firm swift shake before releasing it. "It's a pleasure, Serenity."

"You dueled really good last night, too! I couldn't believe that you had Bandit Keith on the ropes!" she exclaimed. "And you have a Blue-Eyes White Dragon, too!"

It pleased him that someone took notice of his prized possession. He failed to contain his bemused smile. "Thank you. I've had a passion for dueling for many years."

"Well, it looks like it's paying off well." Her enthusiasm and friendliness was contagious. Normally Seto hated being bothered by random strangers, but he couldn't find it in him to shoo her off. Whether it be her charm or praise that he favored he wasn't certain.

Her next question, however, caught him off-guard. "Can I see it?"

"See what?" he blurted, stupidly.

Serenity merely smiled at him, clasping her hands behind her back as she swayed gently from side to side. "Why, your Blue-Eyes! I'd love to take a look at it."

His immediate reaction was to refuse. After all, how could he really trust a fangirl of Bandit Keith's? Perhaps she was playing him so that she could destroy the card in an act of vengeance. She seemed sincere enough, but there was no way that he could be certain. He wouldn't be caught the fool.

Seto reached into his pocket and withdrew his deck, removing the top card and holding it up for her to see. _I just won't let her get her hands on it._

The redhead leaned forward, eyes scanning every detail of the card with a perpetual smile on her face. Her breath smelled of maple, something Seto could discern from her closeness.

"Aww, so cool!" she cheered. "It's beautiful. Thank you for letting me see it."

The words were difficult for him to say, partially because they were never used, yet he managed to blurt: "You're welcome."

"Serenity!"

Both Seto and Serenity glanced back over to the Keith fangirl table. One of them was beckoning Serenity toward them, while another had the most sour expression Seto had ever seen. Were they disapproving of their conversation? Quite possibly, seeing as Serenity was showering Seto with praise when he'd crushed the other girls' sweetheart. The girl bit her lip, turning back to Seto.

"Well, I should probably go," she said apologetically. "But might I ask you something first?"

Seto shrugged in response. "Sure."

"What part of Japan are you from?"

A curious question. Seto considered her words for a moment before responding. "I live in Domino City."

"Oh! That's where my big brother lives!"

That certainly wasn't what he was expecting, and yet he had a newfound respect for her. Another pair of siblings separated, just like himself and Mokuba. "Do you ever see your brother?" The words fled his mouth before he gave them much thought. The girl's gaze fell to the ground.

"I haven't seen my brother in over seven years."

There must have been a backstory, but Seto knew better than to pry it from her. The separation of siblings was always painful, whether it be intentional or beyond one's control. He'd already brought her enough pain by asking if she saw her brother.

"If I gave you something to take back to him," Serenity started slowly. "Do you think you could?"

Seto ran his tongue over the ridge of his bottom teeth. "Well, I could try, but Domino City is huge. Just because I'm from there doesn't mean I have even ever seen your older brother."

"He's about your age, though," Serenity insisted. "Maybe you two go to school together?"

"I graduated last fall."

"Oh."

It pained him to see the look of defeat on her face, causing him to emit a relenting sigh. "Very well. I'll try to find him." After all, how hard could it be to find a high school student through web searches and social media? His response delighted the girl, so much so that Seto thought she would embrace him. As a safety measure he shoved his seat further from her. He did not do hugs.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried, leaping up and down, momentarily reminding him of Mokuba when he got excited. "I wish that I could repay you somehow."

"SERENITY!"

The other girls were growing antsy by that point. Serenity cast a wistful glance in their direction before bringing her eyes back up to meet Seto. She appeared frazzled.

"I'm leaving sometime this afternoon," he told her, rising from his seat to aid her in departing. "My suite is 409. Come find me and bring me whatever it is that you want me to deliver."

"Oh, thank you so much!" The girl offered Seto a slight bow before trotting back over to the other girls, their looks one of disapproval. Sometimes Seto wondered why girls had to be so mean; you didn't often see men acting in such a manner.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur, and finally Croquet announced that Seto's return flight had been booked. The suits had whisked him off to the airport, seemingly grateful to be ridding their hands of the nuisance of a teen. Seto asked too many questions, and it seemed that they favored silence over even light conversation. Seto didn't mind ridding himself of their company either. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the leather airline seat, air vent blowing directly in his face. He rather looked forward to returning home, even if New York was enjoyable. It was time for him to give his English a rest, and astoundingly he even looked forward to seeing Izumi and Anzu again. Hopefully he had a job when he returned; Izumi had promised him that she was holding his position for him.

~(*)~

It was around five o'clock in the evening of the next day when Seto returned to Japanese shores. It filled him with joy to emerge from the airplane and hear dialogue in his native tongue, in addition to reading bulletins effortlessly. He held his suitcase close as he exited the airport, throwing out a free hand to shield his eyes from the sun. The brunet had packed lightly and thus was able to make do with a simple carryon. He hailed a taxi and offered the remaining notes he had left in exchange for a ride home. The roads were too traffic-ridden to attempt returning on foot, not to mention he lived many miles from the nearest airport.

It wasn't quite home sweet home when he arrived at the drab studio; in fact, he'd forgotten quite how terrible the room truly was. Perhaps he had grown accustomed to the suite's accommodations so that the markings on the wall bothered him more than usual, though he was relatively certain that the hole in the linoleum flooring was new.

There were several things that Seto desired to do upon his arrival home, but nothing cried his name more than reaching out to his brother. There was so much that he had to inform Mokuba of, as well as share the good news of Pegasus' proposal.

 _If he keeps it,_ Seto thought dully, holding the receiver to his ear as he dialed the orphanage's number and listened to it ring on the other line. Eventually a stewardess answered the phone, sounding as bored as he remembered.

"Juri, it's Seto," he said to her.

"Oh, hello," she responded dully, offering little in the way of greeting.

"Can I speak with Mokuba?"

"He's not here."

Her words echoed through his mind before he finally managed to respond with, "Oh. Do you know when he'll return?" It was strange to think that Mokuba wasn't at the orphanage at this hour, though not impossible. It was their place of residence, not a prison. Occasionally the headmasters would hold field trips or permit the tenants to wander about town, generally escorted.

"He's not coming back," was her response.

That, however, was impossible in Seto's mind. "Say what?!"

"Seto, Mokuba has been adopted."

 _Impossible,_ Seto thought numbly, thinking that the stewardess must either be joking or lying. "Tell me it's not true."

A mirthless chuckle escaped Juri. "Would you rather I lie to you?"

When silence fell on Seto's end, the stewardess decided it was her turn to pick up the conversation. "Yesterday morning a man phoned in and expressed interest in Mokuba, knowing precisely which child he had an interest in. He flew all the way from the Americas to meet him, and within less than an hour he had adoption papers signed and your brother in hand."

Many red flags went off in Seto's mind at her story. The receiver shook in his hand as his entire body trembled. This adoption went too smoothly, not to mention too fast. What happened to thorough background checks, and time required to put all documents together? Seto held the receiver with both hands to stabilize it.

"Who was he? This man who adopted Mokuba?" Though he already knew.

Juri hummed on the other end to herself. "I didn't catch a name," she admitted. "But he was very odd. Tall, wore a red suit, and had long silver hair that covered half his face."

Both shock, fury, and confusion fluttered through the young man as he slammed down the receiver, having gathered all the information that he needed and had no further reason to speak with Juri.

"Pegasus."


	8. The Hunt Begins

**Author's note:** A kind soul favoriting my story just yesterday prompted me to finish this chapter that has been sitting on my harddrive for over two months. Thank you for the reminder that I needed to put a bit of work into this story. I am very sorry for the delay in this chapter update. I have had little free time on my hands as of late, and all of it has been dedicated to completing a roleplay that I am hosting elsewhere. The good news is that I am almost finished with said roleplay, and I will be able to instead dedicate all of my free time into story-writing. Thank you for your patience, and to those willing to still read my story after all this time.

As always, I am eager to hear your thoughts and ways that I can better improve my storytelling, so please feel free to share your input. Many thanks, folks!

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: The Hunt Begins**

A plate of cold fries and cole slaw grew nastier by the minute while Seto sat in the break room, gaze boring into a spot on the opposite wall with a face devoid of all emotion. From his peripheral vision he saw Izumi and Anzu pass him multiple times on their way to the kitchens, but neither were brave enough to vocalize the thoughts that infiltrated their mind: what put Seto Amakusa into such a foul mood? Normally the brunet teen was filled with sardonic jokes and witty comments. Today, however, he did only his required job, offering little in the way of dialogue.

Once that afternoon Izumi sighed and shook her head, placing a hand on Seto's shoulder. "I don't know what the Americas did to you," she stated bluntly, "but I don't like it."

Seto merely tugged free of her grasp, clearly averting her scrutinizing gaze. "It's nothing," he told her, though his cobalt eyes betrayed him. Izumi merely gave him a gentle smack on the shoulder and sent him on his way. That was how Izumi was–not particularly affectionate or personable. She used to teach a karate class prior to running the burger joint, which sometimes became apparent.

Finally Anzu decided to break the silence, snatching up one of Seto's cold fries and biting into it. She studied him carefully. "So what's up?" she started, leaning into the small table for support.

Seto's gaze broke from the wall to glance in her direction. "What do you mean?"

At this Anzu scoffed, rolling her eyes and straightening herself. "I mean, what happened to you to make you be this social with a wall, Seto? This isn't like you. Something has definitely got your goat."

"It's none of your business," he murmured under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. Anzu picked up on the fact that he hadn't denied it, leading her to press onward.

"It is too my business," she persisted. "Chiefly since it affects your job."

Seto briefly cast his gaze to the kitchen bi-doors. "I don't see how it does. No one typically enjoys conversing with me anyway."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe some people actually enjoy your witty humor."

"Do you?"

His question made her flush, much to Seto's surprise. He didn't see why it should, but then again he had never understood Anzu well at all. One minute she would be smiling and the very next crying, making her particularly difficult to have a good conversation with. Maybe that was why he avoided most women.

"I used to hate it," Anzu admitted. "But while you were gone I realized that I actually missed that sarcastic voice that would sympathize with me about ridiculous patrons."

A chuckle managed to escape Seto, the way she'd blurted it managing to strike a funny bone. "I've never thought of myself as amusing before."

"Well, you are, but don't let it get to your head"–she made a gesture to smack him upside the head, though did not actually do so–"so, you going to tell me what happened?"

Seto let out a reluctant sigh, picking up his cola and taking a swig from it. It had no lid or straw, though strangely he preferred it that way. "All right, so it has to do with Mokuba."

"Who's Mokuba?"

Seto gave an invisible start. Had he really never told her about Mokuba? It occurred to him just how little Anzu knew about him, and how very little that he actually shared about himself with others.

"He's my brother," he answered, before pausing, considering his story. Eventually he laid it all out for her, starting with the nature of his trip to the Americas and what he'd sought to accomplish. He couldn't help smiling when Anzu swore about Pegasus avoiding him, something he seldom ever saw from her, and surprised himself when he told her how bitter and alone he felt. Seto never confided about his feelings to anyone, except occasionally Mokuba, but even that was a rarity.

The expression that Anzu wore was a curious one. Her lips were twisted in an odd way as she wrung her hands, a gesture she made when nervous or clearly distraught. Perhaps she were both.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea."

Seto shook his head. "You're not a mind reader. You couldn't have known."

"Yes, but even still–"

"Forget it. It's not that big of a deal."

"Well, of course it is! How could you say that?" Her tone held fury, and her eyes kindled with a fire he'd only seen a handful of times. He replayed his words in his mind; what had he said wrong?

Apparently she had expected an answer, for she awaited one while glowering at him. When he didn't respond she merely continued. "You may not realize it, but there are people who actually care about what you're going through."

Seto slowly rose his eyes to meet hers. They were a soft cerulean-blue, bright and optimistic. He particularly liked them when ignited with her flames of determination, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"It's not all about personal gain," she continued. "You put on this tough facade, acting like you don't care, but inside you're hurting, aren't you?"

Now she had gone too far. The moment of Seto's susceptibility closed, his walls bouncing back up into place defensively. "Don't play therapist with me," he snapped. "I'm not acting anything!"

A sigh escaped Anzu, looking defeated. "This is what I mean, Seto. Just when you come close to letting someone in, you get scared and shove them away. Why?"

"I'm not scared!" He stopped once he realized that he was standing, his voice rising to nearly a shout. Seto sat back down, feeling sheepish and rather guilty. Anzu was trying to be nice and considerate, nicer than anyone he'd encountered in a great long while. Nicer than he deserved. And yet, why did he shove her away, when he needed a friend most of all?

His lips parted, yet no words came forth. He wanted to say something, to apologize and take back what he'd said. He wished to thank her, and then ask her what her favorite ice cream flavor was. But alas, none of these words presented themselves, and his moment of opportunity disappeared as Anzu sadly whisked away, back into the restaurant where doubtlessly many demanding patrons awaited. Seto crumbled his empty paper cup and threw it at the wall he'd been friends with. He truly was not a people person.

Once his break was over he resumed waiting on tables, trying to make a little more small talk than he had been earlier that day. Seto had spotted Anzu several times, though she was prompt to turn her back on him and busy herself with anything that didn't have to do with interacting. He could tell that an opportunity to make things right wouldn't arise in this manner, and thus stopped trying.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, and soon Seto was already leaving the eatery with clothes that reeked of frying oil. While he greatly desired a change of clothes, he wished to visit the Domino library before they closed for the day. He had something that he wanted to research, in lieu of his promise to the young girl that he'd met in New York City.

His thoughts shifted to Serenity as he continued to make his way down the familiar darkening streets of downtown Domino. For a while Seto thought that she wouldn't arrive at his suite before departing back to Japan, but within the last hour she had managed to turn up. He recalled her sheepish smile as he answered her knocking at his door, her hands clasped in front of her.

"This is for my brother," she had told him, extending the wrapped item. It was spherical, no larger than the size of a baseball, and yet it took up the length of her hands. Seto had retrieved the trinket, giving it a brief glance before striding back into his room to tuck it in with his own belongings.

"I'll see what I can do," Seto responded. "Can you write his name down for me?" While he prided himself in his sharp memory there was a chance that he could forget, or at the very least forget the way in which he spelt his name.

The redhead nodded, still remaining in the doorframe awkwardly. "Uh-huh, I can do that, but I don't have any pen or paper."

Seto turned his gaze over to her, realizing that she stood outside his room as though an invisible wall restricted her from taking any step further. "I have some," he offered finally. "Come in and use it."

Serenity looked relieved at his offer, entering the room and striding toward the nightstand where Seto had gestured. A gold pen and a pad of white unruled paper rested neatly on it, which she wasted no time in seizing and putting to good use. It seemed to take her a while to write her brother's name down, Seto noticed, but he made no comment. Eventually she tore off the note and handed it to him.

"I hope that you can read it," she stated, cheeks reddening. "I'm bad at writing in Japanese, and my vision isn't too good."

The writing was indeed terrible. The lines were slanted and running into each other, and Seto could've sworn that one of the letters was not even in Japanese kanji. "It's fine. Katsuya . . . Jonouchi?" He had to guess at the end, but it was better than shaming the poor girl. She looked particularly relieved, telling him that he got it right before she even responded verbally.

"Yes, that's my big brother!"

 _Mokuba calls me that,_ Seto reflected fondly, tucking the illegible note in his jacket pocket. "I will do my best to find him. Do you have his address?"

Serenity shook her head, auburn locks falling over her shoulders. "No, but I wish that I did. I'm sorry, sir."

Sir? For some reason the way that she addressed him caught him off-guard; he wasn't used to being called 'sir,' much less by a girl a few mere years younger than himself. Seto grunted and shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure? I worry that I'm troubling you."

"I said it's fine." His tone came off harsher than intended, which was reflected upon Serenity's face. She bowed her head lowly before quickly making her way toward the door, mumbling apologies as she went. Seto inwardly kicked himself, wishing to correct the situation but not knowing how. Instead he followed her to the door and said, pleasantly: "It was good meeting you, Serenity."

Her face was rather expressive, something that Seto quite liked about her. It was easy to tell what she was thinking, and to discern whether she was happy, excited, or worried. "It was nice to meet you, too, sir!"

"Just 'Seto' is fine," he corrected her, gentler this time.

And it was all because of the young girl that he sat at a desktop computer at the Domino Public Library, headphones blasting, while browsing through public white pages in search of her dear brother, Katsuya Jonouchi.

Many resided in Domino City, as he'd partially predicted. It would be difficult for him to determine just which one was him. While he could access addresses and phone numbers through White Pages, there was nothing about an individual's age, which would have been very useful in his attempt at locating her brother. Eventually he decided to end his pursuit there, instead looking up high school directories and attempting to find more information that way.

Of course, little information on the high school students was available online, as the school protected the privacy of their students. Seto started to feel that he would be unable to keep his promise to Serenity; the information that he had to work with was just a bit too obscure. It was while he was skimming the pages of honorary students, however, that he found a photo of Domino High's basketball team, captions listing the members in order of appearance. He paused when his eyes skimmed the familiar name that Serenity had written, lips curving upward in a smirk.

"Bingo," he murmured under his breath, cobalt eyes taking in the face of the blond youth he sought. "I've found you, Jonouchi."


End file.
